by C H Gideon
“I assure you, I am as interested in getting to the bottom of this as you are.”
“I doubt that,” Jiya told the alien AI, but she didn’t want to imagine what might happen if Gorad were attempting to play them. “But we’re here to figure this out. It’s not going to give us the answer without a little prompting.”
Gorad gave her a nod of thanks for her understanding.
The robots worked on as they spoke, picking at the computer pieces and tearing it apart in an effort to reassemble it and read the data stored within.
Jiya watched mesmerized as the mechanical arms danced. Each performed its task with a precision and grace unexpected of such a hastily-thrown-together device.
Gorad is a pro with his creations, no doubt about that, she thought.
Of course, that thought only made her more suspicious of the alien AI since it could easily slip something past her, although she was sure he couldn’t do that to Reynolds.
“How long will this take?” she asked.
“Likely hours,” Gorad answered. “The bots must first locate all the pieces and attempt to reassemble them in the proper…”
Jiya flopped to the floor as the alien AI went on and on, explaining the process in such detail that Jiya’s eyes glazed. She rubbed them and wished she’d gone with the others.
At least they were likely to have coffee or the rush-fruit that had so invigorated her earlier.
She licked her lips as she thought about it and zoned out while Gorad went on discussing the intricacies of the task his robots were going about.
Jiya’s last thought before she drifted off was that she hoped she didn’t snore.
“I should have told him,” Geroux said once they were back in the Telluride’s part of town and the hovercraft had left.
“What good would it do now?” Maddox asked. “Best to let the big brains sort things out before we give them another reason to go after each other.”
“But it is big news, that the Telluride want to go off on their own,” Geroux countered.
“It is, but it can wait,” Maddox pressed. “There’s too much going on right now to worry about that. These folks will still be here when they’ve figured out what happened above.”
“You think they will?” Geroux wondered. “I mean, they did send away the two geniuses who know the most about these kinds of things,” she said, motioning to herself and then to her uncle.
“Stay humble, kid,” Maddox laughed.
“I’m just being honest,” Geroux argued.
“You can take that genius mind of yours and help me teach these guys how to play chess if you want,” Ka’nak told her.
Geroux thought for a minute, then nodded. “You know what, I think I will,” she told the Melowi.
Given that the crew had been left hanging while they waited, Geroux didn’t see much point in getting caught up in anything as complex as doing science experiments for the locals.
Besides, as soon as news arrived, the crew would be tasked with dealing with the fallout, whatever it might be.
As such, Geroux decided she’d rather spend the next few hours hanging out and playing chess with Ka’nak and the Telluride who decided to join them.
“I’ll make my way back to the dining hall,” Takal told her as she announced her decision. “I’m famished.”
“It’s all that liquor you drank,” Geroux sighed. “Hey, Maddox. Go with him, yeah? Keep him from getting sloppy drunk, will you?”
“Why the hell not?” Maddox replied, grinning. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”
The general put a hand on Takal’s arm and led the male toward the dining hall.
“Let’s go wait things out, my friend,” he said.
Takal nodded. “Be careful,” he told Geroux over his shoulder as she and Ka’nak went their own way.
Geroux waved goodbye, and the two walked toward the sandlot where Ka’nak had been training the Telluride to fight earlier in the day.
“You any good at chess?” Geroux asked the Melowi once they were alone.
“Nah,” Ka’nak answered. “Are you?”
“I’m pretty good,” she admitted, thinking about all the times she’d played the game.
“You have any money?” he asked.
“A little,” Geroux replied. “Why do you ask?”
Ka’nak shrugged. “No reason.”
“That’s interesting,” Gorad said.
Jiya heard the words as they sunk through the mire of her tired brain, and she pried her eyes open, letting loose a gigantic yawn.
“What’s interesting?” she asked.
“Nice of you to join us,” Reynolds joked. “Late night last night?”
“Late night since I got kidnapped and dragged aboard a superdreadnought run by a maniacal AI,” she shot back as she climbed to her feet and stretched.
“So, is that a yes or a no?” Reynolds asked.
Jiya groaned and looked at Gorad, who was hovering over the now assembled pieces of the computer mainframe.
“You going to tell us what’s interesting or do you want us to guess?” Jiya asked.
The alien AI waved the pair over. He pointed to one of the monitors, which showed a clear image of what one of the arms was doing inside the frame of the reassembled mainframe.
While nothing she saw meant anything to her, Jiya knew the rapt attention Reynolds was giving the screen meant that something there was important.
“Do you see this here?” Gorad asked, the robot arm pointing to a microchip on the computer’s board. Its edges were scored black.
“Why is none of the rest of the area scorched?” Reynolds asked.
“Exactly,” Gorad said, letting the camera on the end of the robot arm zoom in closer. “This area does not carry sufficient current to burn out like this.”
“And there’s no way that my weapons would have left that little bit of char and not touch any of the rest of the board around it,” Reynolds realized. “That means it had to have been burnt out before we destroyed it.”
“But again, this isn’t something that would flare out like this,” Gorad reiterated.
“You sure?” Reynolds asked. “It looks like substandard parts you’ve got soldered in there.”
“I manufacture my own parts here on Grindlevik 3, and I find I can do more with less if I do not expend our resources on the most expensive of electronics.”
“So you’re cheap as well as annoying?” Reynolds told the other AI. “That’s a dangerous combination.”
“I spend all my time in these constructs,” Gorad barked, shaking his head, “And I have never had that particular microchip burn out before.”
“Always a first time,” Reynolds replied.
“Maybe, but unlikely,” Gorad argued.
Jiya groaned and stepped between the two of them. “Okay, so what exactly does that part do,” she asked, trying to refocus the two AIs.
“Nothing that would cause it to become so damaged,” Gorad admitted. “It’s there to shunt remote signals to—” Gorad stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening.
“Remote signals to what?” Reynolds asked, leaning in even to get a better look.
Gorad ordered the arm to pull the burnt chip, and the mechanoid plucked it from the board and pulled it out so the pair of AIs could examine it more closely.
Gorad dissected the part in front of Reynolds, and both AIs muttered curses when the case was peeled back and the insides of the chip were revealed.
The insides were scorched as well, several of the pins melted together and shorted out.
Gorad tossed the burnt chip aside and ordered his arms to pull another piece. Once they had, Gorad put power to the small processor and a flush of data washed across the screens above the workstation.
“There’s our culprit,” Gorad exclaimed, pointing out a section in the code that looked like gibberish to Jiya.
Reynolds, however, knew what it meant.
“Someone hijacked your remote signa
l system,” Reynolds muttered, shaking his head. “How could this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Gorad answered, clearly flustered by the development. “I’m tracing the signal input that relayed the last order the ship received.”
“You mean the one to attack us?” Reynolds clarified.
“Exactly that,” Gorad shot back. “If we can find the source—”
“We can fire the ESD at it?” Jiya suggested.
“Not a bad idea, but no,” Reynolds told her. “We need to track it down so we can keep it from happening again and find out who ordered a hit on the Reynolds.”
“The signal originated from beyond the gravity well of the Grindlevik suns,” Gorad announced as the data came through.
“Right where the—” Jiya started.
“Right where we Gated in, yes,” he said, cutting her off.
“Is this something you brought with you to my system?” Gorad asked, the eyes on his android body narrowing.
“Unlikely. No one is capable of tracking the destination of a Gate drive,” Reynolds answered, and Jiya wondered why he was lying to the other AI.
Reynolds knew damn well that the signal originated from the mystery ship that Ria had picked up shortly after the crew had come down to the planet.
Still, she figured if Reynolds didn’t want to let Gorad in on that information, it was best that she kept her mouth shut.
“Scanners are picking up nothing at the coordinates the signal originated from,” Gorad explained. “That means the threat has either left the system or it’s beyond my range.”
“Can you block the signal from this end to make sure it doesn’t happen again?” Reynolds wondered.
“I can do that easily enough,” Gorad bragged. He went silent for a moment, then grinned. “The process has already begun aboard my fleet and the defense perimeter ring.”
“That was fast,” Jiya remarked.
Gorad nodded. “Automated services aboard each of the destroyers and the defensive ring have begun pulling the defective chips that allowed remote access. Until that task is accomplished, I have surrounded Grindlevik 3 with a signal barrier that will block all access to the remote systems of my fleet from space. There will be no more attacks upon your ship by my destroyers, I assure you.”
“You sure your shield will block all the signals coming in?” Reynolds asked the other AI.
“I’m positive,” Gorad answered, jutting his chin out. “It is clear how the unknown source manipulated my system and took advantage of it,” he said. “We are both quite lucky that they were not able to do more with it while the opportunity remained available.”
Jiya grunted at hearing that. Why hadn’t they?
“Perhaps the gravity well impacted the strength of their signal,” Gorad went on, answering Jiya’s unspoken question. “Or perhaps there are limitations to what our unknown foe can accomplish even with access to the ship’s systems.”
“Or maybe they had something else in mind entirely,” Reynolds added.
“Perhaps so,” Gorad replied. “Regardless, the opening has been sealed off, and it is time to sit down and discuss how we might find our elusive foe before he devises another way to attack us.”
“’Us?’” Reynolds asked.
“Indeed,” Gorad replied. “This hack cost me two destroyers and your trust,” he said. “This attack is upon me, as well, and it is possible that this enemy might well expand the scope of its operations and harm those in my care.”
“We should definitely talk about this,” Jiya said, subtly emphasizing the “we” part of her statement.
She needed to know what the AI had in mind before she slipped up and said something she shouldn’t to Gorad.
“Yes, let’s gather the crew and discuss our options,” Reynolds conceded.
Jiya nodded, letting the two AIs lead the way out of the building to a new hovercraft that had arrived to pick them up. She climbed into the craft and sat in the back away from the AIs, who’d both sat up front, trying to give herself room to think.
The craft took off, and Jiya stared out at the dull scenery as they raced back toward town.
She thought about reaching out to Asya to get an update on the mysterious ship, but she didn’t want to risk it.
Besides, she figured she’d learn more than she wanted to soon enough.
Chapter Twelve
To Reynolds’ surprise, Gorad delivered them to the Grindlovian council chambers. The council members sat rigid in their chairs as the crew, which had been collected moments before, and Jiya and the two AIs filed into the room.
Once more, chairs had been set out for the visitors. This time, however, there were no Telluride in the room. Reynolds found himself wondering why.
He took a seat facing the council with the rest of the crew and watched as Gorad went over to stand alongside Fulla Sol’s chair.
As before, the council stared out through dull eyes, doing nothing that indicated that the Grindlovians were even aware of those seated before them.
“I have called you all together because we find ourselves facing an unexpected threat, one that has already caused division in the negotiations between me and the visiting Federation AI, Reynolds,” Gorad opened up.
“Does this enemy threaten us?” Fulla Sol asked.
“We do not know,” Gorad replied. “The threat is still vague and uncertain.”
“Then perhaps you should send a message for us to convene when you know more,” Vor Stygn remarked in a droll tone.
“But this concerns all of you,” Jiya spit out, clearly annoyed at the council’s dismissal of the threat that had nearly cost the lives of several of her crew. “How can you not care?”
“Until it is proven that it truly is a concern of ours,” Fulla Sol stated, “we have more important issues to attend to.”
“If this is a problem, it stands to reason that those who brought it to our doorstep should be the ones to resolve it,” Vor Hiln chimed in. “Does that not make sense, Gorad?”
“Perhaps it does,” the alien AI admitted, not bothering to look at the Grindlovians because none of them would have noticed anyway.
Without another word the council dropped away as they had the first time, leaving the crew alone in the room with Gorad.
“Charming folks, these Grindlovian council members,” Ka’nak said, staring at the closed hatches beneath which the council members had disappeared.
“I’ve known friendlier wolves,” Takal added.
“They are set in their ways, I’m afraid,” Gorad defended.
“Ways you facilitated,” Jiya challenged the alien AI.
Reynolds noticed that Gorad was growing annoyed at Jiya’s continued snark, but the other AI didn’t shy away from the criticism.
“Perhaps you are right,” he said. “I have made their lives simple, and they struggle with adversity now that they have so little of it.”
“Anyway, why don’t we stick to the topic at hand?” Maddox interjected, trying to corral everyone and keep them on point. He glared in Jiya’s direction, his lip twitching involuntarily. As the de facto leader of their group, her acerbic comments served no purpose except to fracture and demoralize the crew. She looked away before he did.
Reynolds went to say something, but a transmission on his personal comm interrupted him. Asya’s words sank into his ears like stones.
He turned to Geroux, who’d had the situation with the remote access explained to her on her way to the council chambers, and asked, “You have any good ideas about how to shield the fleet from outside influence until all the faulty chips are changed out?”
“I told you,” Gorad cut in, “I’ve already done that. There will be no more problems with my ships.”
“No?” Reynolds asked, shaking his head. “Then maybe you can explain why my crew just reported that one of your destroyers has broken away from your fleet and shot off into space. Was that your doing?”
Gorad stiffened, scowling. He froze, Reynolds recogniz
ing that the other AI was reaching out to touch base with his fleet and confirm the report, which told Reynolds that Gorad hadn’t sent the ship off.
“I…I don’t understand,” Gorad stammered. “My shields—”
“Didn’t do a damn thing,” Reynolds shouted. “You promised me that you could block the signals and prevent another attack from happening, but that doesn’t seem to be the case, Gorad,” Reynolds growled. “Now my ship and crew are in danger…again.”
“But you saw the evidence in the computer we examined,” Gorad argued. “The ship that departed had the old chip removed and a new one installed already. There is no way it could—”
“And yet here we are again,” Reynolds argued. He paced in a tight circle before coming back to glare at Gorad.
Reynolds raised his hands in the air and screamed his frustration.
“I can’t believe this shit, Gorad,” he told the other AI. “Your process has made all of your devices vulnerable to whatever hack this is, and it’s going to cost people their lives. Most likely those of my crew if any more of those damn destroyers are taken over.”
“This has nothing to do with my parts production,” Gorad defended, but Reynolds overrode him.
“The hell it doesn’t!” Reynolds shouted.
Reynolds stomped off, going to the door of the council chambers and staring outside.
“How certain are you that it isn’t your parts, Gorad?” Reynolds asked, pressing the alien AI for an answer. “How sure are you that this exploit isn’t due to substandard production to mass-produce the chips?”
“One hundred percent,” Gorad replied, puffing out his android chest. “I stand by my hardware unequivocally.”
Reynolds spun on a heel. “Then it’s your programming that’s been compromised,” the AI stated, driving his point home.
Gorad went to argue, only to stand there with his mouth open, clearly realizing that Reynolds had outmaneuvered him.
The alien AI’s android shoulders slumped.
“Maybe it is my programming,” the other AI admitted hesitantly, and Reynolds bit back a smile at seeing Gorad fold. “Perhaps we should examine it together since I…I might well be blind to the exploit, if there is one.”
